Wednesday, May 20, 2009

Fiddleheads

This is a fiddlehead fern.

He's a funny little guy, isn't he?.Fiddlehead ferns, also called ostrich ferns, are new-growth fronds that have not opened up yet.

They, apparently, must be picked during a two-week window before the fern unfurls. Fiddleheads are so named because they resemble the scroll at the top of an, ahem, fiddle. In these United States of America, Maine and Vermont are the main sources of this seasonal wild food. Fiddleheads are rumored to taste like asparagus combined with artichoke. Or, some say, okra..My tavern-friend Bobby has a place in Maine, and he is apparently a fiddlehead forager extraordinaire (fiddleheads are foraged, not cultivated), because he brought back several vacuum-packed bags of fiddleheads, which he gave to Maureen, um, Peter, um, me..This guy says fiddlehead are $19.99 a pound in San Diego. This, therefore, is a bag of the purest Maine fiddlehead gold, dude! Mistah and I? We cooked our bag right up, and made ourselves a delightful meal. And here's how we did it.

First, we lit the Vulcan.

The Vulcan is, well, how does one describe the Vulcan? Not a child, not a pet, not an appliance . . . somewhere in the middle. And I'm pretty sure the Vulcan is a male.

Then I cut open that vacuum-sealed bag . . .

. . . and pure loveliness spilled out.

I read lots of fiddlehead websites yesterday, and they all agreed that those little ferns need a good rinse first . . . .

. . . before they got blanched. Blanched! Ack! Actually, It's not as bad as it sounds. Just a minute or two in boiling water. Nothing they couldn't handle. I didn't blanch for a minute while the poor ol' fiddleheads did.

Okay, so, now I think I'm on a cooking show, because really. Who has this in her kitchen? Are they not just gorgeous?

I mean, really.

Okay, enough blanching. [Blanch.] Next I gave them an ice-and-water bath. Why not? They deserved it. And then right into the garlic and olive oil . . .

. . . add a splash of the bestchahr-bonnay. Only the verybest will do . . .

. . . and let them stew in their own fiddlehead-esque juices for a while, while the pasta cooks. Bow-ties. Natch.

Okay. Then. Pasta in.

Stir. (I am on a cooking show!!! )

A little freshy peppah . . . .

. . . and a salad. And since we're the just-out-house (as Mumsie would say), this is a salad with no tomato, with no onion, with no carrot. A just-out salad.

I love fiddleheads! Like asparagus they have a really short season. But it's mandatory for those two weeks that you eat nothing but fiddleheads and/or asparagus. I find them very similar, except fiddleheads have that bit of wild greens bitterness about them. That's a nice recipe you have their. We just usually steam them and butter them. I'll have to try this one.

Speak!

Featured Jacquie

Featured Beth

Featured Ellie

Once upon a glass or twelve of wine, Jacquie and Beth and Ellie got to talking. We decided that we were all enormously smart and clever and hilarious, and that it would be a crime not to share our unique talents with the world. We decided to start a blog together.

We needed a name, so Jacquie asked Beth: “What should we call a blog about meand you and Ellie?” And the rest, as they say, is history. We are having a blast writing this thing, and if there was any trepidation that we were only smart and clever and hilarious that night because of all the wine, our words here thus far have succinctly affirmed our mutual self-admiration.